


Beside Myself

by Lady Divine (fhartz91), Lady Divine Coldflash (fhartz91)



Category: Glee, Struck by Lightning (2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Guilty!Kurt, Jealous!Sebastian, M/M, Mistaken Identity, New York City, Possessive!Sebastian, Romance, Sexual Content, The Flash - Freeform, kind of crossover, minor mention of Blaine, minor mention of Klaine breakup, minor stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine%20Coldflash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has been kind of stalking a man for weeks, going to the same mediocre cafe every day just to have lunch in his presence. It starts out as harmless - crushing on a guy that reminds him of his boyfriend - until Kurt starts to feel guilty. Right when he decides that leaving is the right thing to do, something unexpected happens.</p><p>Inspired by Grant Gustin’s comment about what he thinks Sebastian Smythe’s reaction to meeting Barry Allen would be (with a special surprise guest at the end).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught in the Act

Kurt shifts slightly in his bistro chair - straightening his back, lengthening his neck, adjusting his posture. He tries his hardest to appear relaxed and breezy, absorbed in his own lunch and utterly unconcerned with the world around him. He takes occasional dainty sips of his cucumber water, conservative bites of his spinach and chicken salad, and thumbs idly through the issue of _Harper’s Bazaar_ open on his table.

Except, he’s not all that interested in his lunch. The vinaigrette is overpowering, most of the spinach drenched, and the chicken bland as wood shavings. He’s not really reading his magazine, either. It’s just an elaborate prop so Kurt can watch _him_.

This is insane. Kurt has never actively _stalked_ anyone before. He has friends who have, but not him. Not like this, by employing subterfuge - showing up exactly when Kurt knows he’ll be there; picking a table with the best, unguarded view, but also far enough away so as not to be obvious; ordering a meal that’s not too complicated or messy so he won’t attract too much attention, and also so he will look appropriately poised if he’s seen eating it; and the magazine, the perfect excuse to stare for long stretches in the same direction without incurring suspicion.

He even dressed for this, changing out of his usual McQueen suit and borrowing something a bit more upscale from the Vogue vault. If that doesn’t (stylishly) scream desperation, Kurt doesn’t know what would.

Kurt feels so guilty. He has a boyfriend – an _amazing_ boyfriend. He _loves_ his boyfriend; they love each other. Kurt would never cheat. He knows what that feels like, and he would never inflict that pain on anyone. But this man Kurt’s been anonymously eating lunch near for weeks is so _different_ from Kurt’s boyfriend – reserved, polite, bashful, with a quiet dignity, and yet …

Kurt wishes he had someone to talk to about this, but with Rachel in California shooting her TV show and Mercedes on tour, the only person available to him right now is Chandler. Kurt met up with him again when he moved to New York, and managed to swing him the internship at _Vogue_ when Kurt was officially hired on as Isabelle Wright’s assistant. Chandler is the ultimate best friend - sweet, attentive, always willing to lend an ear, able to drop everything at a moment’s notice to stop by for cheesecake and conversation. He also has the biggest mouth for gossip of any human being Kurt knows. He doesn’t intentionally blab, but if the info is too juicy, his filter dissolves, and it’s like he can’t help himself. But Kurt might just risk it because not having someone else’s insight on this situation is maddening. Kurt knows who he is in his heart. He knows what he will and will not do. But still, this attraction has him so … confused.

Kurt’s eyes shift away from the man three tables over to focus on his magazine – a magazine he’s read cover to cover about fifteen times already. Kurt sighs in contempt at himself. This isn’t insane, it’s ludicrous, and what he needs to do right now is stand up, leave, and not come back.

“So, what are we eating?”

The intrusion is so sudden, it makes Kurt snap his head up right as another person joins him, taking the seat directly across from him and completely blocking his view of the man at the other table. Kurt doesn’t even register the intruder completely before his stomach flips. Kurt knows that voice. Its signature is imprinted in his brain, in his heart, and on every inch of his skin.

Kurt’s been caught.

“Sebastian?” Kurt leans over the table, keeping his voice low. They’re seated on an outdoor terrace facing the sidewalk, but in the lull of the late afternoon, voices carry. “What are you …? How did you …?”

“Oh come on, Kurt,” Sebastian says, rolling his eyes, “give me a little credit. I’ve had a GPS tracking app activated on your iPhone for months now.”

Kurt’s expression goes from anxious to aghast in a blink. “You’ve been _spying_ on me?”

“Not _you_ ,” Sebastian drawls. “Your phone, doofus. You’ve lost it about six times in the last four months. I mean, I know we’ve got the money, but it’s a little frustrating replacing your frickin’ iPhone all the time.” Kurt crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. He hates it when Sebastian’s right. “Anyway,” Sebastian continues, “when you started dogging me for lunch dates, I just kicked that little baby in gear and came up with this new café you seem to be so enamored with.” Sebastian glances around, scrunching his nose judgmentally. It’s a quaint (for lack of a better word) out-of-the-way place, but not somewhere Kurt would normally go, and definitely not a place Sebastian would ever admit to eating. “Though I’m not so much convinced it’s the food you’re hankering for since your Amex card says you only spend about ten dollars here. I’m thinking … a salad.” Sebastian looks down at Kurt’s plate of half-eaten spinach leaves and bone-dry chicken, and gestures to it in triumph.

“Wow,” Kurt says, not sure if he should be impressed by Sebastian’s sleuthing skills or alarmed, “stalker a lot, or just the people you’re dating?”

It’s not until the words come out of his mouth that Kurt realizes he’s the pot, and he just called the kettle _black_.

“Pretty much everyone, sweetheart,” Sebastian says. “But mostly the people I live with, the people I sleep with, the people I share my life with, the people I talk about marrying ...” Sebastian has more, but he feels no need to elaborate. Kurt knows that Sebastian has only done three out of the four of those things with him. The sharp pang of guilt Kurt’s been feeling shows quite obviously on his face, especially at the mention of marriage. Because even if Sebastian had always _thought_ about it, Kurt’s the one who brought it up, doubting on several occasions whether or not Sebastian ever intended on asking him, and starting fights that might have been fatal to their relationship if not for one thing.

They love each other – deeply and truly love each other.

Also because, though he’s not letting on, Kurt can detect a smidgen of hurt in Sebastian’s tone.

“Sebastian,” Kurt starts to apologize, “I …”

“So let’s see who’s on the menu, hmm?” Sebastian cuts in, his smile tight. He sits up and sweeps his eyes around. It’s the middle of April, and the city is still thawing from a harsher-than-normal winter, so even though it’s after noon and the café inside is busy, the patio is mostly empty. There’s really only three other options besides Kurt and Sebastian, and one of them is a dead giveaway. When Sebastian turns in his chair and sees him, sitting a few tables away, his jaw drops, and bitterness morphs into disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Sebastian laughs. “What the---he looks just like me!”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, not feeling any better about this when that revelation softens Sebastian’s hard edge a little. “I noticed that, too.”

“Well, I can understand the attraction. I guess I didn’t have to worry _too_ much, did I?” Sebastian still sounds bothered, but he’s much more amused now. Sebastian turns back to Kurt, the corner of his mouth quirking into a wicked grin. “Is it weird that I want to hit that?”

“Sebastian!” Kurt gasps louder than he meant to, causing the other two occupants on the terrace to look his way.

“Well, fuck, Kurt!” Sebastian peeks back over his shoulder at the man – the only person who hasn’t seemed to notice them. “I’m a handsome man!”

“Sebastian!”

“You know that I think?” Sebastian asks, though Kurt already knows he’s not going to wait for Kurt to give him an answer. “I think this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Wh-what?” Kurt sputters, mortified when he sees Sebastian get up out of his seat. “Wh---no, Sebastian. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go say hello to your little friend over there,” Sebastian says, grin spreading.

“Sebastian!” Kurt hisses, lowering his voice self-consciously even though he knows that any attempt at keeping this conversation secret has long since fizzled. “Sebastian!” Kurt grabs at his boyfriend’s sleeve. “No. Don’t. I’m begging you. Please, don’t.”

Sebastian pulls his arm away and makes his way through the tables to the one where his lookalike sits, mulling over a thick stack of paperwork, not even touching the turkey club sandwich on his plate. Kurt watches on in horror as Sebastian walks over to the man’s table and, without being acknowledged or invited, sits down. Kurt considers getting up and walking away, leaving Sebastian to think twice about humiliating him in absentia, but Kurt knows it won’t matter. Sebastian doesn’t back down … _ever_. He’d just show the man pictures on his phone of his pathetic boyfriend who’s been drooling over him, making sure that Kurt could never show his face in this part of town again.

When the man looks up from the papers he’s reading, his reaction is almost identical to Sebastian’s – his jaw dropping, his eyes widening, a strange twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth, as if he doesn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“Uh, hey,” he says, settling for an uneasy smile. “May I … may I help you?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “I thought since you and I have the same face, I’d come over here and introduce myself.” Sebastian sticks out a hand. “Sebastian Smythe.”

“Barry,” the other man says, taking Sebastian’s hand and shaking it. “Barry Allen.”

“Great,” Sebastian says. “You new here, Barry? Because I think I’d remember if I’d seen myself before.”

“I … yeah,” Barry says. “I’m from Central City, but I’m … uh … just visiting.”

Kurt doesn’t want to listen in on this conversation. Actually, he wants to curl up underneath his table and disappear into the pavement, but he can’t help it. It’s like watching a horrible, bloody accident take place. At least Sebastian is making the conversation all about him, and hasn’t mentioned Kurt.

“You work for the police department?” Sebastian asks, taking a glance at the folders stacked on Barry’s table, the top one with a _Property of the NYPD_ stamp in the center.

“Um … yeah,” Barry answers cautiously, like he’s not sure how much he should admit, especially to a man who looks like himself. “Yeah, I do.”

“That’s hot. Always had a thing for men in uniform. So, my man over there …” Sebastian turns suddenly and points out Kurt “… has a _huge_ crush on you.”

Kurt hears the words come out of Sebastian’s mouth and his heart freezes.

“Oh.” Barry’s brow draws in the middle. He looks Kurt’s way, and Kurt, paralyzed, does nothing but stare back, gaping like dying bass.

“And I have to say” - Sebastian chuckles when he glimpses Kurt’s face - “you _are_ kind of easy on the eyes. But then again, I’ve always thought so.”

A stunned Barry nods without saying a word.

“So, if you’re ever in the mood for a threesome” - Kurt sees Sebastian reach into his pocket, and that’s all he sees, because sometime after that, he blacks out. He doesn’t pass out or fall to the ground. His brain simply shuts off so he doesn’t have to witness any more – “here’s my card.”

“Oh,” Barry repeats, taking the business card with a blank expression on his face. He looks at the card, then back at Sebastian. “I … thank you?”

Sebastian winks at Barry the way he normally winks at Kurt – more explicitly suggestive than just a cordial, run-of-the-mill wink.

“Welcome to New York, Barry Allen.” Sebastian stands from his seat and pushes his chair in. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Sebastian makes his way back to Kurt’s table, sashaying his hips as he walks. Kurt sees Barry crane his head to look past Sebastian right at him. Kurt has to clamp a hand on his thigh to quell his urge to get up and run.

“Sebastian!” Kurt exclaims with a whine when Sebastian returns to the table. “What have you done?”

“I think I may have opened the door to your wildest fantasy.” Sebastian pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, takes out a twenty, and slides it underneath Kurt’s plate. “Or mine. I haven’t figured that out, yet.”

Sebastian grabs his boyfriend’s hand and tugs up, making it silently clear that they’re leaving. Kurt, who usually doesn’t stand for being bossed around, goes quietly, knowing he has no place to object at this particular moment.

“I can’t come back here ever again,” Kurt says, but he’s not actually too upset. What Sebastian’s doing right now – acting aggressive, staking his claim, showing Kurt and everyone around them that Kurt belongs with him – is Neanderthal in nature, but also one of the reasons why Kurt loves him. Sebastian’s not afraid to show anyone that Kurt is his, in no uncertain terms.

“Good.” Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt. He puts both hands on Kurt’s ass and squeezes hard, making as possessive a display as possible. “Then the only guy you’ll want to fuck from now on who looks like me” – Sebastian leans in quickly to bite Kurt’s lower lip, swallowing the way he moans – the way he _always_ moans – “is _me_.”

***

_20 minutes later_

“Hey, babe. How’s my favorite CSI?” Arms wrap around Barry’s shoulders, luring him out of his paperwork and back to the real world. He’s read the same sentences over and over, but he can no longer make sense out of them, not since he met _himself_ about half-an-hour ago. The whole incident still has him scratching his head. As soon as he gets back to the office, he’s definitely running the name _Sebastian Smythe_ through the system, though Google via his phone unearthed some interesting tidbits of information. But no need to think about that now. Barry smiles, turning around to kiss the man whose arms are wound around him, feeling at home for the first time in weeks.

“Happy to see my favorite investigative journalist again.” Barry nuzzles into the man’s neck, inhales the scent of his cologne. “Do _not_ leave me alone for this long ever again.” Barry shakes his head as one last image of Sebastian Smythe and his boyfriend flashes through. “My life stops making sense when you’re not around.”

“Uh oh.” The man pulls back an inch to look into Barry’s eyes. “New York not being kind to you?”

Barry gestures to the chair opposite, but the man forgoes it in favor of sitting in his boyfriend’s lap, and Barry’s glad. He needs this – this warm, genuine person that he loves - to hold on to.

“Carson,” Barry says, looking into his boyfriend’s worried blue eyes, “I have had the _weirdest_ day.”


	2. Plot Twist

Sebastian pulls his Porsche into the underground parking garage located a convenient few blocks down from the deli where Barry said to meet him. It also happens to be several blocks away from the Lower Manhattan Police Department. Barry mentioned that the deli he chose is a popular cop hang out.  

Sebastian wouldn't know.

But he thought that comment might have been Barry’s subtle way of reminding Sebastian to be on his best behavior.

Sebastian smiles. Only a few conversations, and Barry’s already got him pegged.

Sebastian was surprised when he got Barry’s text. He honestly thought he’d never hear from the man again. When he first read the message without Googling the number it came from, he thought it might be Kurt playing a trick on him, a little bit of roleplay to spice things up, maybe even to apologize more than he already had.

Or a test, which was likely, too, knowing Kurt.

But after Sebastian called back, he discovered that it was indeed Barry Allen. Barry had been intrigued by meeting Sebastian and Kurt, enough that he had spent all that night lying awake, thinking about it, and wondered if he could possibly take Sebastian up on his offer. Or at least discuss it. Sebastian made it very clear that, regardless of how he might have come across, he didn’t do a thing without his boyfriend. He and Kurt were a packaged deal. Barry agreed. He said that he had a long time boyfriend of his own, and that he would need to be factored into the equation, or it would be a no go for him as well.

One step at a time. They decided to go for lunch and talk it over, see if they were, in fact, compatible, and then decide on how best to break it to their significant others.

Sebastian knows he can get Kurt on board, no problem. They would just need to convince Barry’s boyfriend. Sebastian was praying for a big ole yes. After all, how often do you actually come across your Doppelganger in your lifetime?

For Sebastian, this is an event of comic book proportions. Even if Barry has no intention of doing anything sexual with him and Kurt, it would be interesting to get to know this man, find out what walk of life he comes from, what his childhood was like, where he went to school, what were his dreams, his aspirations, how he ended up working for the police. Looking at Barry, imagining the life he might have led that brought him to this point, is almost like looking at what Sebastian's life could have been if he hadn't been born to privilege; if he hadn't taken those left turns when he could have gone right; if he hadn't met Kurt, hated him, and then fallen in love; unlike Barry, who seems married to his job.

Sebastian checks the time on his phone as he walks out of the garage, then double checks his messages. He's preparing to send a quick text to his boyfriend to make arrangements for dinner when he glances up to see where he’s going and, speak of the devil, there he is. Sebastian cocks a brow and chuckles to himself. He guesses even after everything that happened - their long talk, and the remarkable apology sex that followed - Kurt is just too fascinated by Barry to stay away.

"Motherfuckin' Kurt," Sebastian mutters to himself, shaking his head. He's not hurt anymore, and he's not mad. He can see the humor in his boyfriend being obsessed with someone who looks exactly like the man he loves. It could be the plot of an M. Night Shyamalan movie. Now all Sebastian has to do is keep an eye out for the plot twist and hope no one gets murdered … or kidnapped by aliens. With any luck, he and Kurt will both get the chance to fuck this obsession out of their systems, _literally_ , and everything will go back to the way it was _B.B.A_.

_Before Barry Allen._

Sebastian sneaks up behind Kurt, eager to hear the excuse his smitten boyfriend comes up with for showing up here, not knowing that Sebastian would be there, too. Sebastian's beginning to enjoy catching Kurt unawares. The teasing afterwards is _way_ too much fun. It reminds him a lot of high school when he began to see, after months of instigating and antagonizing, what their daily battle of wits had become - verbal foreplay.

All through Kurt’s senior year of high school, poking fun at Kurt became an addiction. Even when Sebastian knew he should keep his mouth shut, even when he realized that what he was doing was getting him nowhere, he couldn’t stop. What had started out as a ploy to steal the immensely fuckable Blaine Anderson away from a less-than-worthy adversary became a _need_ for Sebastian.

A need to see the fire that flashed in Kurt’s eyes when Sebastian made a sarcastic remark.

A need to see Kurt’s chest heave right before he came out with a jab to parry it with.

A need to watch Kurt’s pale cheeks flush red and know that Sebastian did that. _He_ put that rush of color there. Soon, when he saw Kurt’s face fill with color, he began to imagine that scarlet stain all over Kurt’s body.

Their very last angry confrontation occurred after Kurt and Blaine broke up. Kurt came right to Sebastian, ended up on his doorstep at eleven o’clock at night, and they fell into their old routine without Sebastian knowing what had happened.

That evening wrapped up somewhere in the vicinity of four in the morning with him and Kurt in Sebastian’s bed.

They’d been dating ever since.

After Sebastian found out about Barry, after he caught Kurt ogling him from across a café patio, the sex that ensued reminded Sebastian a lot of that night, except instead of Sebastian asking Kurt’s forgiveness for crossing over a line (which he did with a snide insinuation about Kurt’s inability to keep Blaine satisfied), it was _Kurt_ begging for forgiveness.

Then on his hands and knees with Sebastian behind him, pleading for mercy.

Sebastian had been tempted to make Kurt call him _Barry_ , see how his little perv would react, how fuckin’ turned on it got him. Sweet, soft, quiet Barry Allen, so scholarly and reserved from what Sebastian could tell. It actually made Sebastian so hot thinking about it while he pounded into his boyfriend, every thrust that missed its mark intended to make Kurt pay for what he’d done, that Sebastian didn’t last long.

Jesus fuck! Was Barry Allen going to become a kink for him? Was that deranged? Would he require therapy for this? A support group? An intervention?

Whatever. He’d taken it this far. He saw no reason to turn back now.

Sebastian slips up behind Kurt and wraps his arms around his waist from behind.

“Well, hello, gorgeous,” Sebastian whispers, and Kurt, startled at being caught, stiffens in his arms. "And you called _me_ a stalker." Sebastian nuzzles aside Kurt's head and attacks his neck. "Look at _you_? Tracking our little Barry down. Gawking from a distance like a lovesick puppy. You’re so hot to get at him, huh? You wanna put that pretty mouth on him? Wrap your legs around his waist? Make him say your name? Or do you wanna moan his name while I fuck you hard? I’ll tell you, babe, I’m getting so many nasty ideas. I think this might call for a little roleplaying later on, don't you think? Or …" He nibbles at the soft flesh beneath the collar of Kurt’s shirt, at the muscles rigid as stone “… I’ve got the Porsche in a parking garage a few blocks away. We can slip inside for a quickie, release some of this tension before we talk to our boy because you, my love, are as stiff as a stripper pole right now. Whaddya say?”

There’s something odd in the way Kurt reacts to Sebastian’s kisses. Instead of relaxing in Sebastian’s arms - melding against his body to feel Sebastian’s hard-on press against his ass, bending his neck to offer the length of his smooth skin for Sebastian to mark - his head twists left and right, and he leaps out of Sebastian’s grasp.

"Get the hell off of me!" he yells so loud it rings in Sebastian’s ears. He spins around and shoves Sebastian full force with both hands planted on Sebastian's chest. The blow knocks the wind from Sebastian’s lungs, and he stumbles back a couple of steps. Sebastian trips over his feet and almost falls to the ground, but he manages to recover.

"What the fuck, Kurt!?" Sebastian fixes his shirt and glares at his boyfriend, getting a better look at the man suffering from a severe case of overreaction. It doesn’t take more than a glimpse for Sebastian to tell that there's something off about him. Standing in front of him, body locked in a defensive pose, a black canister of Mace in his raised right hand, the man threatening Sebastian _looks_ like Kurt, but only if they were living in an alternate dimension and Kurt were a community college literature professor. He doesn't hold himself like Kurt, and how he glares, his eyes wide instead of narrowed to slits, his teeth clenched with lips parted instead of pinched into a thin line - that's entirely new. The glasses perched on his nose - Kurt would _never_ be caught dead in those glasses. And those clothes. They definitely weren’t the clothes Kurt was wearing when he left for work this morning (though he has been known to do a costume change halfway through the day, so that’s not weird). But … is he wearing _khakis_? And a _plaid_ shirt? Maybe Kurt would wear plaid, but that shirt definitely wasn’t a McQueen or any other upper echelon designer. Sebastian isn’t as in to fashion as Kurt, but he can tell a bargain basement shirt when he sees one.

Sebastian is about to ask Kurt if this is a joke, or did he actually go as far with his fetish as to change his appearance to become someone he thought Barry might like better, until an even more fantastic realization hits him. 

"You're … not Kurt, are you?"

"N-no!" the man spits, backing shakily away. "Wh-who's Kurt?" The man seems to finally see Sebastian past his can of Mace and his mouth drops open. Shocked blue eyes look Sebastian up and down. His brow smooths with recognition, then furrows again with fear. "Who ... who the _fuck_ are you?"

Sebastian wants to laugh. He wants to throw his head back and break down until tears leak out of his eyes and he can't breathe, but he's afraid he might get Maced if he does.

"Holy shit," he murmurs, looking the man over, completely stunned by what he's seeing. If Sebastian thought that finding a man that looked exactly like himself was impossible, what would the statisticians of the world make of _this_ coincidence?

"Carson?" Barry appears, rushing over to the frightened man’s side. "Are you ... Sebastian?" Barry raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know ... I didn't realize you two had met."

Barry puts his arm around the man's waist. The man turns his head to look at Barry, staring at him as if they're all going insane, himself especially.

"B-Barry?" His eyes dart from Sebastian to the man by his side so quickly that Sebastian would be surprised if he doesn't give himself a headache. "Do you ...?" He shakes his head, not sure what he wants to ask, what question will solve this mystery. "Who is this!?"

"Bar-ry," Sebastian sings, feeling safe to lower his arms, "you've got some ‘splaining to do."

“Uh … yeah,” Barry agrees. Carson’s fuming eyes demand an explanation while Sebastian smirks at the two of them like he just caught them doing something wildly inappropriate. “Maybe I should introduce you two?”

“I think it’s the least you could do,” Carson snaps.

Barry clears the discomfort from his throat. “Sebastian Smythe, this is my boyfriend, Carson Phillips. He’s a journalist for _The Central City Citizen_. Carson, this is Sebastian Smythe. I met him here in New York a few days ago. I …” Barry pauses, his expression puzzled. “I’m not exactly sure _what_ you do for a living.”

“No one does,” Sebastian jokes, hoping to diffuse the stress from the man with his finger stuck firmly to the dispenser button of his Mace. “It’s nice to meet you.” Sebastian leans forward and extends a hand. “I apologize about before. You just look … well I mistook you for …”

Carson stares at Sebastian’s hand as if it’s an inimical, pus-strewn monster, and takes a reflexive step away, dragging Barry with him.

Sebastian pulls his offensive hand back, wringing it with his other to hide it from view.

“Maybe it would be better if I called Kurt and we all ate lunch together,” Sebastian suggests. “Get this all out in the open once and for all, hmm? What do you guys think?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Barry says. He pauses, waiting for Carson to jump in with a barrage of questions or a scathing rant, but his eyes are still wide as saucers, bouncing from Sebastian to Barry, his mouth hanging ajar.

“O-kay.” Sebastian reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Just … give me a second.”

“Of course.” Barry walks Carson away a few paces to explain Sebastian to him in private. Sebastian watches them as he dials Kurt’s number. Barry gazes into his boyfriend’s eyes as he talks with Carson shaking his head in disbelief, shooting the occasional unreadable glance Sebastian’s way.

“Sebastian?” Kurt picks up without Sebastian noticing, so drawn into the conversation between Barry and Carson that he can’t even overhear.

“Kurt? Babe? Can you come downtown for lunch, say, now?” Sebastian watches Barry put his arms around his boyfriend, a surreal ping knocking in his chest from watching these two men, who look so much like him and Kurt, embrace. “No,” he says when Kurt asks if there’s something wrong. “Everything’s alright. There’s something you have _got_ to see.”

“What is it?” Kurt asks, the telltale sounds of him heading out of his office, down the hall, and into the elevator audible through the phone.

“I’d rather you see for yourself,” Sebastian says. “Let’s just say that Barry Allen’s been holding out on us.

 


	3. A Freudian Black Hole

“Barry Allen! I have no idea what’s going through your mind right now, but I can _definitely_ tell what’s going on in that Sebastian character’s head, and the answer is no! No, no, absolutely _not_!”

It took a lot of convincing and sweet talking on Barry’s part to get Carson to the deli while Sebastian waited outside for Kurt to arrive. But even after Barry got him to agree to go ( _Just one drink, Barry! One! I’m not spending longer than thirty minutes around that man! I can’t believe I’m even agreeing to do this! If I didn’t love you as much as I do …_ ), he argued the entire way, and when they finally got there, Barry wasn’t sure that Carson would actually stay.

“We’re just here to talk, Carson. That’s all.” Carson quirks an indignant eyebrow at his boyfriend blatantly insulting his intelligence. “You don’t have to agree to do anything you don’t want to do. And whatever you decide, I’ll follow your lead, I promise.” Barry surprises himself by how disappointing saying that feels since he’s more than certain that Carson’s answer is already no, undoubtedly no, with little chance that that will change. “I just … I want you to keep an open mind.”

“An open mind!?” Carson exclaims loudly. Barry notices the background music in the deli lower so everyone else can listen in. “You said that Sebastian bore a striking resemblance to you. A _striking resemblance_. You didn’t say he was your _twin_! Why didn’t you tell me the two of you were _identical_!?”

“Because I actually didn’t know _how_ to tell you, Carson,” Barry pleads. “It seemed like it would be an easy conversation to have, but then when you showed up, I didn’t know what to say.” He still isn’t sure how to broach the subject of Kurt. Carson might consider Barry’s keeping _him_ a secret unforgivable once he sees the man. “But I thought you would be offended if …”

“Did you run his name through the NYPD database like I recommended?” Carson presses like the concerned boyfriend and excitable journalist that Barry knows and loves. “Did you find out if he had any priors? Any warrants? Did you Google him? Do you know _anything_ about him!?”

“Yes, I do,” Barry says, hoping that Carson will run out of breath long enough for him to answer just one of his questions. But Barry knows Carson. If anyone in the world can hold a one-sided conversation/argument for hours on end, it’s him. “I promise I do. I know where he lives, where he went to high school and college, what he does for a living ( _which Barry hadn't wanted to let slip to Sebastian during their introductions - he didn't want the man to know Barry had checked up on him_ ), what his family does, all of his professional and personal affiliations, all verified by reliable sources ( _he adds quickly before Carson can question the validity of his information_ ), and from what I can tell without getting a blood and urine sample, he’s clean.”

Barry did the same digging into Kurt’s life, and the things Barry unearthed captivated him – fashion designer, dancer, singer, actor, working at _Vogue_. Barry found it interesting that Kurt and Carson should have journalism in some form in common. But whereas Barry and Carson have such similar interests that even their jobs can be seen as working in concert, Kurt and Sebastian are so diametrically opposed, theoretically they should hate each other.

The puzzle of Kurt and Sebastian, polar opposites according to their dossiers, didn’t just intrigue Barry as a forensic investigator whose life is spent, in part, learning about people through the minutiae of their lives.

It turned him on.

“Well, then can you tell me again _why_ you want to do this?” Carson asks, his tone taking a turn that Barry rarely ever hears. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he heard Carson sound anything close to insecure - not about his writing, not about his job, and especially not when it came down to the two of them. “I mean, am I not enough for you? Is that it? Have you developed some new kinks that you haven’t told me about?” Carson sniffles, then becomes so angry, the flip makes Barry’s head spin. “Or are you such an incredible narcissist that you had to go out and find someone who looks exactly like you to fill some Freudian hole in your life that I don’t fit in to?”

“Carson, no,” Barry begs, fighting to plead his case when Carson turns away. “It’s not … it’s not like that. I never even thought about it until …” Carson shakes his head and Barry stops talking. Whatever Barry’s excuse is, he doesn’t want to hear it. “Look, there’s something else, Carson.   _Someone_ else that you haven’t met yet.”

“And that’s Kurt, right? Great!” Carson throws up his hands. “So, it’s not just Sebastian. There’s a _fourth_ someone in this equation? Does it stop at _four_? How many people do you expect me to _fuck_ , Barry!?” Three tables full of people snap their heads Carson’s way, but their scowls of disapproval don’t register. “Well, you can just forget that, Barry! Forget that! And … maybe … maybe you should forget about …” Carson’s frown cuts clear to his chin and he bolts from his chair.

“Wait, Carson!” Barry yells, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm. “Just … just give me a chance!”

“Why should I?”

“Because … you have to meet this guy! You have to meet him before I try to explain this to you any further.”

“And why do I need to do that?” Carson growls, yanking his arm out of Barry’s grasp.

“Because then maybe you’ll understand.” God, Barry hopes he does. He can’t screw up his relationship with Carson. Barry has lost so many people in his life. He can’t sit and watch Carson become one of them.

Barry would have never considered this at all himself without seeing Kurt. Even the improbability of meeting Sebastian couldn’t persuade him to do this. But Kurt was the proverbial straw. He’s so different from Carson, he’s almost _exotic_. Barry only saw him the one time, sitting at a table across the patio at the deli Barry had taken to eating lunch at, and, at the time, he was hiding, trying to dissolve into the pavement. But he was gorgeous, glamorous, like he had stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. He had a singsong quality to his voice that Barry caught for a moment when Sebastian spoke to him over the phone. It sounded ethereal, soft and soothing … and effortlessly sensual.

When Carson talked, he zeroed straight in on the point with no beating around the bush and no nonsense. He didn’t flatter, he didn’t flirt, he didn’t try to impress. He only spoke in two tones – the one he used when he was looking for answers, and the one he used with Barry in private, but they honestly didn’t differ all that much. When Carson was working an angle, he had the confidence of a man who could shake down mobsters for their lunch money, and that’s part of what Barry loves about him.

Carson is no damsel in distress. He can hold his own with the best of them, and that’s important if he’s going to date someone like Barry.

Being with Kurt and Sebastian would be an experience Barry would only want to have once.

Carson is the experience that Barry wants for a lifetime.

“Look, you’re the one who likes to track down the unusual, right?” Barry asks, hoping to appeal to the journalist in him. “Isn’t that how you found _me_?”

“ _Threesomes_ aren’t that unusual, Barry! Even foursomes aren’t unusual! Is this what being in New York has done to you? Is this what it’s turned you into, Barry? Some kind of sex fanatic? And by the way …” Carson’s voice drops to a whisper “… did you tell them about …?”

“No,” Barry says. “No, I didn’t. And I wouldn’t. That’s part of the point. You _know_ me, Carson. You know everything about me, all of my secrets. We’ve been together through everything. I would never trade that, not for anything, or _anybody_ , in this world.”

“I wish that wasn’t so difficult for me to believe right now.” Carson sighs. “This isn’t _you_ , Barry. This isn’t like you. Why would you even entertain …?”

Past the blockade of Carson’s body, Barry spots Sebastian walking into the deli with Kurt on his arm. Barry wonders if Sebastian clued Kurt in at all to the existence of Carson on his way over, or the fact that Carson could be Kurt’s twin. If so, Kurt’s taking it a lot better than Carson is. He looks downright _thrilled_ to be meeting Barry’s boyfriend.

In a last ditch effort to get things back on track, Barry lunges up from his chair, grabs Carson’s jaw, and turns his face towards the door.

“Let go of me, Barry!” Carson says, smacking Barry’s hand away. “I’ve made up my mind! I don’t want to have anything to do with …” Carson spots the couple walking in. At the same time, Kurt turns their way and sees them both. His eyes open wide, his jaw drops, and Carson stops talking. He takes a quick breath in, and Barry knows he’s done it. He’s piqued Carson’s interest enough to make him stop fighting.

He hopes it’s enough to convince Carson to forgive him.

Carson might not be altogether down for what Sebastian has been suggesting to Barry, but the journalist in him won’t be able to resist investigating a little further. “Holy mother of … _shit_!”

“Well?” Barry says with a smile that Carson would describe as smug if it wasn’t so shy; if Barry wasn’t Barry, who’s not normally prone to things like sarcasm or pride the way Sebastian seems to be. Barry isn’t wrong. Seeing Sebastian is fascinating. It’s like meeting another Barry, one from an alternate Earth. But this … what Carson is looking at right now is something altogether extraordinary. He can’t believe his eyes, not that that’s ever stopped him before. This _is_ the kind of phenomena Carson hunts for. He’d heard about people finding their identical twin strangers, but aside from a few YouTube videos, he had never known anyone in real life who had found theirs before Barry.

He never dreamed for one minute that he’d find one of his own.

Carson smiles back at Barry, intrigued beyond the scope of comprehension by this new development, and retakes his seat.

“Barry Allen” – Carson slips his hand under the table to squeeze Barry’s knee, crawling it a few inches further up as Sebastian and Kurt approach - “you have my attention.”

***

“So, you were actually there in Milan when that riot took place?” Kurt asks, taking a slow sip of his drink. Somehow, as the afternoon has gone on, he’s been able to push aside his uneasiness at talking to a man who’s an exact likeness of himself. Kurt does it by trying to see all the things about Carson that he himself is not - the slightly darker complexion, more freckles on his nose, his glasses, the way he brushes his bangs down over his forehead, the tight line set of his mouth that makes his jaw seem more square.

Yup. They don’t look _exactly_ alike. Sebastian and Barry look way more alike than he and Carson.

Also, a fair amount of alcohol has done a lot to help fortify his delusions.

“Oh, yeah,” Carson says, puffing up with pride. He loves this, captivating someone other than Barry with his adventures in the pursuit of exposing injustice, upholding the First Amendment, and supporting the Freedom of Information Act. “I was right in the middle of it all when the first canister of tear gas landed in the square. Oh God!” Carson looks up as the memory hits him, the excitement of this Pulitzer Prize contending moment cutting through the hanging threads of trauma it caused. “I have _never_ felt anything so awful in my life! It burned so bad - my eyes, my skin, my mouth - I couldn’t breathe. People in the neighborhood were raiding local fast food joints and markets for milk to pour into our eyes. Now, I’m not a milk drinker, but I think I guzzled about nine gallons of the stuff!” Carson laughs. “At the end of it, when I finally made it to the hospital, I never thought I would smell anything or taste anything again. The gas was so thick, I couldn’t see my tablet so I couldn’t finish my story, and _then,_ my eyes swelled shut!”

Kurt sits at the edge of his bar stool, hoping that Carson might mention whether or not he got a glimpse of any of the new winter fashion lines while he was there, when he notices Sebastian and Barry off in a corner, talking close together, matching green eyes occasionally flitting in their direction. Kurt sees Barry say something, nervously if the way he strokes the back of his neck is any indication. Sebastian chuckles, then he smirks. He glances their way, catches Kurt’s eye, and winks.

“When I get back to the states,” Carson continues, “my publisher meets me at the airport, and I look like a train wreck. I mean, he actually tells me that I look like I had my face burned off. And then he yells at me for handing in my copy an hour late!”

Carson seems to find that hilarious. He throws his head back completely when he laughs this time, but Kurt’s attention draws away once again when he sees Sebastian pat Barry encouragingly on the shoulder. Barry nods, looking over at them anxiously - looking at _Kurt_ anxiously.

Kurt gets the feeling that something is about to happen, something that Barry might not be completely prepared for … or that Carson is entirely on board with.

Barry and Carson seemed to be in the midst of an intense conversation when he and Sebastian walked in.

From the look of it, Kurt thought that Carson was getting ready to storm out.

Kurt and Sebastian had spoken about it. For days they’ve talked about the two of them and Barry, fantasized what it might be like to add a third person to their sex life. The discussion they had on the short walk over about including Carson and making that fantasy threesome into a foursome titillated Kurt, but he told Sebastian that everyone would need to agree – _everyone_. 100%.

And it would have to stay only sex.

Kurt would be devastated if his and Sebastian’s dynamic ever changed. Kurt planned on spending his life with Sebastian and _only_ Sebastian. A one-time in the sack with another partner or two is fine, but there isn’t room in Kurt’s life for anyone else. Sebastian agreed. He said that it wasn’t even a question. But Sebastian has wanted a threesome far longer than Kurt has.

Kurt prayed that Sebastian would still feel the same way when this one was over.

Barry breaks from his conversation with Sebastian and the two men walk over with Barry leading the way. Kurt has to admit it’s kind of cute the way Barry shyly cards his fingers through his hair, head slightly bowed, so much different in poise and stature from Kurt’s own cocky boyfriend. Carson stops talking when he sees them approach, and though his expression of realization is much different from Kurt’s, Kurt knows that Carson feels it, too.

 _Something_ is about to begin.

“Hey, babe,” Carson says, his voice flat when Barry joins them with his sights set on Kurt.

“Hey,” Barry says.

“Hey, Barry.” Kurt sits up in his seat and sets his drink aside. “What have you and Sebastian been talking about in secret all this ti—?”

But before Kurt can finish, Barry has his arm around Kurt’s waist, a hand creeping up his back to his neck, his mouth claiming his.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” Sebastian says, probably as much to urge Barry on as to express an opinion. But hearing his boyfriend say it _looks_ hot makes Kurt _feel_ hot. It makes Kurt want to wrap his arms and legs around Barry’s body and see what else he can do to the man that might make Sebastian moan.

Kurt doesn’t hear anything from Carson but a gasp and a heavy gulp. He’s almost afraid to peek at him in case there’s devastation in his eyes.

“You know, I can … uh … get us a room in that hotel a few doors down, gentlemen,” Sebastian says, close to Kurt’s ear but loud enough for Barry and Carson to hear. “Feel like moving this party somewhere more _private_?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, answering his boyfriend with Barry’s lips kissing his neck. “God, yes, I do. What about you Barry?”

Kurt kisses Sebastian so he doesn’t have to see Carson’s expression when Barry answers. It’s selfish, Kurt knows, but he can’t keep himself from doing it. If anything happens to Barry and Carson’s relationship because of this, Kurt doesn’t know how he’ll get over the guilt.

“That’s up to Carson,” Barry whispers.

Carson’s naturally tight-lipped mouth pulls tighter. He hates Barry’s non-answer. He hates the evade. He hates that Barry took the responsibility of this, something Carson didn’t want to do, and put the decision on his shoulders.

But at least Barry kept his promise. He’ll do whatever Carson decides.

And Carson _is_ curious. Maybe that’s the part about this that he hates the most. He wants to see what it is about Kurt and Sebastian that has Barry so riled up and bothered.

“Sure,” Carson says, grabbing Sebastian’s hand. If Kurt gets Barry, it seems only fair. “Far be it for me to ruin everyone else’s _fun_.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear,” Sebastian jokes, waiting until Kurt takes his other arm before he moves a step. “Say what you will, but lukewarm resignation going into an orgy is _hot_ as _fuck_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** I know what people are going to say, that Carson and Barry should have talked this over more with Kurt and Sebastian before leaping in, but there's more to this story, so...wait and see :)


	4. You (and You and You) and Me Make Things Complicated

“So, you’re _sure_ you’re okay with this?” Barry asks as he and Carson walk hand in hand to the hotel behind Kurt and Sebastian, who can’t seem to keep their hands off one another. Carson isn’t a fan of PDA. He doesn’t understand the appeal behind feeling someone up and swapping spit in front of God and country. It’s tacky, it’s gross, and it makes everyone by and large uncomfortable.

But watching Kurt and Sebastian make-out like this fascinates him. It’s not that they don’t care who may or may not be watching (though they probably don’t), it’s as if no one else exists when they’re together. They’re not putting on a show for attention; they’re just _that much_ in lust, but a lust bred from love. In fact, Carson is pretty sure that he and Barry could bow out right now and the two men in front of them would be none the wiser. They’d go up to Sebastian’s rented room and make love, high on each other and the simple suggestion of a foursome.

Carson would like to believe he has something similar with Barry (not as steeped in performance art, but similar). But watching Kurt and Sebastian, he doesn’t think they do. Not even close. It’s something Carson never thought he might envy before he saw these two men together.

Carson wants to see if he can siphon a little bit of that spirit from them.

“Yes, I’m okay with this,” Carson says, so tightly his voice almost changes pitch. “Could you please stop asking me?”

“I just want to make sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

“Handle it?” Carson scoffs. “Barry, please. I’ve been stuck in the middle of a gun battle in Yemen, narrowly missed mortar fire in Iraq, took photos of an epic crash at the Indy 500 _from the track_ , remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Barry says with a hard swallow. He doesn’t particularly like to be reminded of Carson’s reckless streak.

“I think I can handle an orgy.”

“I’m not sure. This is different.”

“I fail to see how it is.”

“You do those other things because it’s part of your job, but you take risks because you think you’re invincible.”

“I _am_ invincible,” Carson says, conceited. “I’ve escaped death more than once. I’m considering adding that to my resume.”

“But this isn’t about putting your _life_ on the line. This is about your _heart_ … and mine.” Barry runs a thumb over Carson’s knuckles – as affectionate in public as they dare get. “You don’t have to do this for me. I’ll understand if you say no.”

“I know that,” Carson says, conflicted. This seems like an easy out. Should he take it? Would Barry end up resenting him if he did? Would Carson resent _himself_ in the long run? “But maybe I’m doing this for me.”

Barry slows their pace a step to look at his boyfriend, his expression of perplexed, concerned, and sweet part of everything Carson loves about him. “ _Are_ you doing this for _you_?”

“Yes,” Carson says, definitively, decidedly – he thinks. He’s 89% sure. “I am. I swear.”

Barry lets the subject drop, but only for about three seconds before he picks it back up again. “Just so you know, it’s never too late to back out. Even when we’re in the middle of it, I’m totally okay with …”

“Look, Barry. Do you want to talk me out of this, or do you want to do this?”

“Alright,” Barry says, but with a healthy bit of skepticism. This acquiescence seems out of character for Carson. He’s usually so competitive, and territorial when it comes to their relationship. Anyone who so much as looks at Barry can expect Carson’s bitch glare aimed their way, burning a hole into their skull.

Barry speeds up again, catching up with Kurt and Sebastian as they reach the opposite sidewalk.

“Out of curiosity, what were you and Sebastian talking about for so long anyway? You know, before you came over and swallowed Kurt’s tonsils,” Carson asks after they cross the street to the hotel and all of this begins to get very real.

“We were talking about decisions,” Barry says, squeezing Carson’s hand. “Which ones I wanted to make, which ones I thought you’d be okay with …” _Which ones I thought I could live with …_

Sebastian must have called ahead at some point, or he has a room permanently on retainer, because he goes straight to the concierge’s desk, scans a screen loaded on his iPhone, and the lady behind the desk hands him a key card. It takes less than two minutes. Jesus Christ! It took Carson nearly forty-five minutes to check-in to his single room at the Holiday Inn last time he traveled, and a good thirty minutes of that time had to do with a discrepancy concerning his passport.

Carson’s passport had been charred during an accident back in high school. He should just get it replaced and bypass all the bullshit it causes, but he’s kind of fond of it that way.

The four of them catch the elevator the second its doors open to let a handful of visitors out on the lobby level. Sebastian slams the _close door_ button before anyone else can get on, giving one surprised businessman a shrug when the doors close in his face and no one makes a move to hold it for him.

Sebastian immediately pulls Kurt into his arms and starts kissing him again, one hand latching on to his right butt cheek and squeezing till the fabric of his pants crease, while Kurt loops his arms around Sebastian’s neck and nearly winds his legs around his waist. They whisper and giggle, trade _I love yous_ and carry on like hormonally charged teenagers. Barry can’t help chuckling at the two of them. He doesn’t think he’s ever been as eager to get at someone before in his life the way they seem to want to get at each other. The majority of what he feels in his stomach now is nervous butterflies. He envies their ability to throw caution to the wind and express that kind of affection, no holds barred.

Barry turns to Carson to see if he might want a kiss, a hug, a hand to hold, but he’s looking at his phone, rearranging meetings and answering texts (from what Barry can tell). It dawns on Barry that he should be doing the same, letting someone at the department know that he’s taking an extended lunch break. Carson’s the practical one, making sure that all of his loose ends are tied and his q’s curled before he does something spontaneous.

He could also be hiding how uncomfortable he is behind menial tasks that make him feel in control, but that doesn’t make what he’s doing any less intelligent.

Barry would ask which, but it seems clear from their conversation on the street that Carson’s not telling.

The elevator stops and they step off. Barry and Carson follow yet again as Kurt and Sebastian basically wrestle one another down the hallway to the room. In an impressive move, Sebastian sticks the key card in the slot and opens the door without even breaking Kurt’s kiss. Barry gets the impression that the two of them have been in this situation before – so caught up in kissing one another that things like riding in elevators and opening doors become completely secondary, and they’ve learned to do them without having to pay attention.

Behind closed doors, things change.

The atmosphere in the hotel room is drastically different compared to the walk over. Walking from the deli to the hotel, Carson had an excuse not to participate in any heavy petting, but here, things will be expected of him. He just doesn’t know how they’ll proceed. It’s not something they stopped to talk about. Carson assumed they would start out in pairs, both couples beginning with what was familiar and then adding to the other group as time went on. But Sebastian seems to declare himself the leader. He undoes Kurt’s fly, then takes Barry’s hand and shoves it down the front of Kurt’s pants while Sebastian kisses Barry’s neck. Barry strokes, and Kurt attacks Barry’s lips. Sebastian splits his time between undressing Kurt and undressing Barry while simultaneously leading the entire entourage over to the bed.

When Barry’s mouth isn’t on Kurt’s, Sebastian’s mouth is. Barry and Sebastian trade-off who kisses _Kurt_ , who undresses _Kurt_ , who strokes _Kurt_. Sooner than Carson thought, the focus becomes _Kurt_. Because Sebastian wants Kurt, that’s more than obvious, but so does Barry. Kurt, in the middle of receiving this body worship, reaches out for Carson, but Carson slides away, hoping Barry will reach for him instead, which he does, but then Carson finds himself shrinking from his touch when Barry gets on his knees and sucks Kurt’s cock into his mouth. Carson hadn’t prepared for that. He had envisioned Barry fucking Kurt. He had envisioned Barry fucking Sebastian. He had envisioned some combination of both. But this seems too intimate to Carson. The sound Kurt makes when Barry begins to bob, along with his choked off, “Barry!” swallowed by Sebastian’s grinning mouth, is unequalled by any sound made during any sex act that Carson has ever been a participant of. Eventually, Carson edges himself out of the equation with his pants and half of his shirt unbuttoned, while the three naked men, Carson’s boyfriend included, writhe on the king-size bed – Barry on top of Kurt and Sebastian moving behind Barry, until they become a blur of flesh and moans.

Carson thought he would be okay with this. He honestly did. He talked a good game, even to himself, but he really isn’t. Not with the reality of his boyfriend and another man who looks like his boyfriend pleasuring a man who looks like him … but isn’t him. Seeing it with his own eyes in real life is paralyzing.

And not because Carson is jealous.

Of all the people in the world that Barry finally looked at sideways since he and Carson had started dating, Barry chose a man who looks just like him, so that has to say something.

Except that’s where the similarities stop.

Kurt _isn’t_ like Carson.

Kurt is polished, sophisticated, dresses infinitely better, wears expensive cologne and, Carson suspects, makeup to cover up his flaws (if he _has_ any). Kurt worries about things like skincare, diet, manicures, and the cut of his clothes. His life doesn’t surround politics, riots, military movements, coups, and last minute trips to places where you have to live out of one bag, carry your own biodegradable toilet paper, and can’t drink the water or you’ll die.

Kurt is the kind of man Barry could come home to after a long day, go to sleep next to every night without worrying about his cell phone ringing, meet for quickies at lunch time, and take to the CCPD’s Annual Christmas Gala. Carson has had to miss the last three. After this last time, Barry joked that the guys at CCPD didn’t believe that Barry actually had a date. Barry was teasing, but Carson could tell that it bothered him.

Imagine Barry walking into the ballroom of the Silver Ages Tower with Kurt on his arm?

What if _Kurt_ is what Barry wants? Someone like Carson, yes, but different?

Kurt reminds Carson of Iris, the woman that Barry had been in love with his entire life until she fell in love with and got engaged to someone else. Shortly after Barry decided to give up on love altogether and focus on work, he and Carson met, and something clicked - a spark that grew so bright between them that it couldn’t be ignored.

But regardless of that spark, and how hot it got when they were together, Carson always felt like a rebound, that there was someone else in the world that Barry might like better.

What if he was _half_ right?

Carson becomes so lost in that thought that he backs himself into a corner, partially staring, but mainly contemplating, so he doesn’t notice Sebastian leave the group and come his way.

“Are you going to get in on this? Or do you plan on remaining a wallflower?” he asks. Carson gives him and the others a cursory glance. From around Sebastian’s naked (and visibly aroused) body, Carson catches a glimpse of Kurt lying on his back with Barry hovering over him, sliding inside him slowly.

Carson’s eyes spring open. _Well, that escalated quickly, now didn’t it?_

When Carson doesn’t answer, Sebastian sighs. “Look, you sulking in the corner is kind of getting creepy. We all want you to join in. But if you’re not down for sex, we can compromise. You’re a journalist, right? I’ll lend you my iPhone, and you can take some pictures.”

“What do you care if I join in or not?” Carson’s eyes dart away from the visual of Barry climbing on top of Kurt and Kurt arching his back, eyes shut, face already orgasmic. “More for you, right?”

“Well, jeez, Carson” – Sebastian rolls his eyes – “if you’d told us you’re man-strating, we would have waited out the week.”

Carson laughs dryly. “You have quite the way with words, Mr. Smythe. Must be why Kurt loves you so much.”

“One of the many reasons,” Sebastian kids. “But seriously, you’re missing out on all the fun with your boy Barry.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like Barry’s missing _me_ much.”

“Oh yeah?” Sebastian chuckles. “Well, he’s called Kurt _Carson_ twice already.”

“It doesn’t look like Kurt minds.” Carson is about to check, but decides he really doesn’t want to. Talking to Sebastian, even _naked_ Sebastian, feels safer than watching what’s going on over on the bed. “It doesn’t look like _you_ mind, either.”

“We don’t mind because this is just sex,” Sebastian says. “It’s not love. That’s what this was supposed to be about, right? Why are you sitting out on a once in a lifetime opportunity to literally fuck yourself?” Sebastian takes a few steps forward, the expression on his face more understanding than before, when he was all snarky remarks and jabs. Maybe it’s a side-effect of being nude and slightly vulnerable, but he seems genuinely curious to find out what might be wrong.

Carson centers his gaze on the ceiling, trying to ignore the soft gasps across the room. “What if … what if Barry starts liking Kurt … more than he likes me?

“Why would he? I mean, the two of you might _look_ the same, but you’re _you_. He fell in love with _you_. And regardless of finding someone who looks like you, there’s only one you, Carson.” Sebastian leans his back against the wall next to Carson. With an unobstructed view, Carson watches Barry drop his head to Kurt’s shoulder - in frustration, maybe? Embarrassment? Kurt whispers something, and Barry nods, a shy smile twitching his lips. Then Barry whispers something back, and Kurt laughs, full and honest. They look like they’re enjoying themselves, enjoying one another … and Carson _hates_ it. Sebastian, on the other hand, looks on with a fond smile, and so much love in his eyes that Carson would think Sebastian is watching _himself_ on the bed with Kurt and not someone who looks like him. “You know, statistics say that there’s actually six or seven lookalikes for every person on earth, you’re just unlikely to find them. So, there are other people that look like you in the world aside from Kurt. Is Barry going to run off with all of them? Is Barry going to _fuck_ all of them if he finds them? Not likely. Besides, if your little Barry wants my Kurt, he’s going to have to go through me to get to him, and cop or no, he’s going to be in for one hell of a fight.”

Carson barks a laughs at the conviction in that statement. Even if Barry _wanted_ a relationship with Kurt, Sebastian wouldn’t let the man go without a fight.

“I guess,” Carson says, noticing Barry peek over when he laughs.

“Look,” Sebastian says, “Kurt and I didn’t intend for this to cause bad feelings. We thought you were down or we wouldn’t have agreed. We’re not going to push. If you want to leave right now, you can. No one’s keeping you here.”

Carson shrugs a shoulder. “I couldn’t leave without Barry, and I’m sure that he wants to stay.”

Sebastian seems stunned by that remark. “What? You think he’d stay here without you?” Carson doesn’t answer. Didn’t Barry say it didn’t matter what point they were at in this, if Carson wanted to go, they’d go? Carson doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t believe Barry would leave – not now. Not when he’s this far in with a gorgeous man. Not when it looks like he’s having the time of his life. Carson doesn’t want to be the person who interrupts that.

Carson’s silence is Sebastian’s answer. He shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but he only wants you.” Carson sputters another laugh and turns his face away. “He’d go with you,” Sebastian insists. “Right now. No questions asked.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“You don’t have much faith in your man.”

“How do you suddenly know so much about what Barry would and wouldn’t do?”

“Because he told me. Duh. Literally a second before I walked over here. And I believe him.” Sebastian waits for his words to sink in, for Carson to have a Eureka! moment and change his tune, but that moment doesn’t come. “Look, hang in the corner if you want, but this is getting hot, and my boyfriend needs to be kissed.”

Sebastian pushes off the wall and heads back to the bed. Carson watches it play out: Sebastian’s eyes lock on to Kurt as if he were the only other person in the room. He struts over to his boyfriend lying on the bed, being steadily fucked by Barry, stroking his erection back to hard. Kurt smiles at Sebastian and _only_ Sebastian, licks his lips when he sees Sebastian’s cock in his hand. Kurt’s eyes glow with an intensity that belongs to Sebastian. Sebastian kneels down beside the bed and murmurs in Kurt’s ear, then he claims Kurt’s mouth. Carson watches Kurt rise up to meet him, sees how absolutely in love the two of them are. Barry may be there, he may be in as intimate a position with Kurt as any human being can be, but that doesn’t seem to matter. It adds to the experience of Kurt and Sebastian together; it doesn’t take anything away.

Barry may _look_ like Sebastian, but he’s _not_ Sebastian.

And Sebastian is in love with Kurt.

Just like Barry, cock buried deep inside this other man, is in love with Carson. He has his head turned, staring at Carson with lust blown eyes, silently begging for Carson’s mouth on his. And Carson wants to give that to him. But not yet. That’s not entirely what this experience is about.

“Sebastian?” Carson calls, interrupting his and Kurt’s kiss. “Sebastian, can you … can you come here, please?”

Sebastian turns to Barry, eyebrows raised, as if he _expected_ Carson to call him back, like he was waiting for it. _That’s_ obnoxious. Barry would never do something like that. Even if he anticipated Carson’s next move, he’d have the decency to look surprised.

“Why?” Sebastian asks, pulling away from a whimpering Kurt and heading back to Carson’s corner of the room. “What’s up?”

Carson lifts his hands to his shirt and starts unbuttoning it the rest of the way, emboldened when Sebastian’s eyes follow. Carson takes the shirt off and tosses it in the corner. Sebastian looks Carson over, outlines his bare torso with his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, and Carson’s mouth goes dry.

“Would you ... kiss me?” Carson feels stupid asking this, as if Sebastian’s going to say no. Sebastian’s proven he’s a decent guy … for a pervert.

Sebastian smirks. A desire lights his eyes that Carson would have never expected.

“My pleasure.” Sebastian takes the last two steps towards Carson with a sensual confidence that Carson can’t help finding extremely sexy. He expects Sebastian to grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, maybe painfully, but he doesn’t. Sebastian takes his time. He wraps an arm around Carson’s waist, then another. He runs fingertips up Carson’s spine until his hand cradles the back of his head, drawing Carson’s gaze to Sebastian’s eyes – green eyes that look like Barry’s from a distance, but up close are distinct. Sebastian’s eyes carry flecks of gold, where Barry’s eyes are more grounded in one color, but in a variety of hues. Sebastian’s eyes smolder where Barry’s eyes simmer. Sebastian’s eyes go from green to black in almost an instant whereas Barry’s take a while to get there. Sebastian removes Carson’s glasses carefully and sets them on a nearby table. He looks from Carson’s eyes, probably noting similar differences between him and Kurt, down to his mouth, then slowly back up to his eyes again before he kisses him.

There’s a part of Carson whose first instinct is to rebel at having another man’s mouth on his, but he tries his best to relax. After a second, he’s not trying anymore. He’s doing – holding tight to Sebastian’s shoulders, wrapping a leg around his, kissing him back. He doesn’t feel Sebastian move him, held captive by this kiss; doesn’t register being picked up and walked over to the bed to join the other two.

Sebastian lays Carson out on the bed a short distance from Kurt and Barry.

Barry whispers something to Kurt, and Kurt enthusiastically agrees.

“Top or bottom, Carson?” Sebastian asks, undoing the button to Carson’s pants.

“Bottom,” Carson says.

“On your hands or on your back?”

“Back.”

Sebastian smiles. He looks surprisingly bashful, but still very little like Barry. “Are you just picking the second choice I give you - yes or no?”

“No.” Carson chuckles. “I just …” He wants to mirror what Kurt and Barry are doing. He wants to picture himself in Kurt’s place, being fucked by Barry with that new blue electricity dancing in his eyes. “I want it this way.”

“Mmm, he’s usually on top,” Barry moans. “Maybe he wants to try something different.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sebastian leans low over Carson and Carson closes his eyes. He abandons himself to _feel_ \- Sebastian’s lips roaming his body, down his chest to lick his nipples, skimming his abs to reach his cock. Carson hears shuffling, things being moved around on the bed, then he feels Sebastian’s lubed fingers search the crack of his ass. Sebastian’s lips encircle his head, taking it into his mouth in slow centimeters, a gently tortuous switch off of lick and suck that wipes Carson’s brain, and his anxiety, away.

“Oh God,” Carson moans, reaching down with trembling hands to touch Sebastian’s hair, rectify the reality of this man between his legs with Barry nearby fucking Kurt. Sebastian _isn’t_ Barry; that’s important for Carson to remember. Because that means that the man he loves, who he knows everything about, realizes that Kurt isn’t him regardless of how much he may _look_ like him, a fact that seems to be emphasized every time Barry breaks from a kiss with Kurt in favor of kissing Carson.

“How’s that feel?” Barry asks, watching his boyfriend with eagle eyes as Sebastian blows him.

“Good.” Carson tries to maintain eye contact with Barry but he can’t. He feels like his face is about to explode. He closes his eyes. “So good. Different from you.”

“Better than me?”

Carson’s eyes snap open and Kurt snickers.

“Not better,” Carson says quickly, his words almost cut when Sebastian sucks hard. “J-just … just different.”

Sebastian climbs back up Carson’s body, indulging in one long kiss from Kurt, then another from Barry, before he goes in search of a condom. Kurt lifts up and leans over for a kiss from Carson while Sebastian puts the condom on, pulling Barry down to give his boyfriend a taste of what Kurt had a moment ago. Carson begins to understand the appeal. As he surrenders to the mouths on him, their different styles of kissing and their vastly unique tastes, he finds freedom in this. This isn’t love, not with anyone but Barry. And as long as Barry is fine with what they’re doing, Carson doesn’t have to worry about hurting Kurt’s or Sebastian’s feelings. He just has to enjoy what’s happening to him, appreciate the people giving him pleasure, live in the moment and remember that after today, his life with Barry continues on. Maybe they’ll see Kurt and Sebastian again, maybe they won’t. But that’s not the point.

Having fun is the point. And this _is_ fun.

Carson feels Sebastian lift his legs up and apart, and gasps when the man slides inside. Sebastian takes it slow, but Carson’s ready … and he’s willing. Sebastian feels thinner than Barry, surprisingly, but only by a tiny bit. It’s still another difference to tick off the list. He feels a hand on his cock that he’s sure is Barry’s; another hand on his cheek, fingers playing over his lips that he’s sure are Kurt’s; but either way it doesn’t matter. Sebastian moves in and out of him, there are hands all around, and voices moaning in ecstasy, some even moaning his name. He arches his back the way Kurt had done, and hands creep up his back to support him. A mouth meets his and kisses him hard. The hand on his cock disappears, but then another one returns. The first one was slightly rough, and familiar; the second one softer but more firm; then a third, with less speed but more technique.

Carson likes control. It drives his life. He likes to have his ducks in a row. He likes to know what to expect before he goes anywhere, know where all the emergency exits and the fire extinguishers are, thinks over every conceivable outcome. But he also craves excitement. He’s not in control here. He’s literally lying back and letting whatever happens happens. And it’s _exciting_. He kisses what comes near his mouth, touches what journeys near his hands, and lets everyone else take care of the rest … including him.

“Yes, Barry,” Carson hears Kurt moan. “God, yes … just … just like that … faster, please …”

“You want faster? I’ll give you faster,” Barry answers seductively. But Carson giggles. He can’t let that lie.

“Be careful, Kurt,” Carson says, trying to keep his voice from shaking long enough to speak coherently. “Where we come from, Barry’s known as _the fastest man alive_.”

Sebastian laughs so hard he crows, but Barry laughs, too.

“Well, _I_ think he’s doing _just fine_ ,” Kurt coos, grabbing Barry’s shoulder and tugging him down. Barry pulls Kurt closer by his bent knees and pounds into him hard, the sound of their bodies slapping together disarming to Carson. Again, more _real_ than he’d prepared himself for. But then Sebastian snaps his hips, trying to keep up, trying to get Carson to the same place as Kurt at the same time, and that sound becomes fairly easy to ignore.

“How’s that?” Sebastian asks, biting Carson’s bottom lip; kissing his mouth, top and bottom; swiping his tongue inside. “Do you like it hard and fast like Kurt?”

“Yes,” Carson says, grabbing at the blanket beneath him. “Yes, _please_ …” He feels a hand take his – Kurt’s hand lacing their fingers together, then squeezing as he starts to cum, sharing with Carson this moment between him and Barry.

The second the rocking from Kurt and Barry’s side of the bed stops, and the strained sounds of their climax subsides, Kurt’s lips are on Carson’s, Barry’s hand on his cock, and along with Sebastian’s pounding, it becomes too much, but not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all. Carson enjoys the one on one intimacy of him and Barry, the singular focus between two souls. All of this attention overwhelms him. It sends him spiraling, flinging him out of his mind with the multiple, overlapping sensations of tasting, testing, touching – the one man who knows him edging him closer and closer towards completion with two fabulous supporting players giving him a boost.

But it’s more than just a hand up. It’s like rocket power.

Carson would probably cry out if not for Kurt’s mouth on his, kissing him even after Carson’s lips go still. He feels full of Sebastian, his rhythmic thrusting hitting all the right spots, but it’s Barry’s hand that takes Carson all the way. When Carson cums, it’s with these wonderful men around him, inside him, moving through him, elevating him, then catching him as he comes down.

It’s one of the most fulfilling sexual experiences of his life.

After Carson cums, Kurt backs away. Carson had already been on the fence about this. It took him a while to find his groove. Kurt doesn’t want to make things uncomfortable for him when things cool down by encroaching on his personal space. Kurt understands because Carson’s like Kurt that way. Kurt loves the intimacy of a truly magical sexual experience, but it takes him a while to open up to someone new. Kurt doesn’t think he’d have been half as receptive to Barry if he didn’t look like Sebastian.

Sebastian’s the last to finish, a few deep thrusts behind Carson, but he was just about done when he heard Kurt cry, and then saw him kiss Carson. Sebastian wanted to last long enough to get Carson to climax. But the things he did to bide – figuring out his baseline tax deductions for the next filing year and trying to spell his full name backwards – worked a little better than he’d anticipated.

When Sebastian stops shuddering, he looks at Barry, curious as to what a wrecked Barry Allen looks like. Barry has scratches running down his chest from Kurt’s nails digging in to his skin, and Sebastian can’t help being jealous. Carson wasn’t much for touching outside of looping his arms around Sebastian’s neck when Sebastian bent over to kiss him, but that was kind of nice. There was a certain nostalgic innocence to it, like his more romantic times with Kurt, when the two of them would just hold one another and rock for hours. But Kurt raking his nails down Sebastian’s back or his chest are one of Sebastian’s favorite things about how powerfully Kurt cums.

Barry catches Sebastian’s eye, the glance down his chest, and he smirks in a way that’s shockingly Sebastian-like.

“Nice,” Sebastian says with an approving nod.

“Thanks.” The smirk disappears from Barry’s face in a flash, and he becomes shy Barry Allen again. “Uh … not that I’m complaining but … does he always do that?” he asks, running a hand subconsciously down his front.

“Nah,” Sebastian says. “Most of the time he draws blood.”

“But you love it, don’t you?” Kurt locks eyes with his boyfriend as Barry eases away from him, searching Sebastian’s face for any sign that what happened between them _wasn’t_ okay, that he _didn’t_ like it, that he and Kurt are in trouble, possibly over.

“You know it.” Sebastian blows Kurt a kiss, and Kurt, only mildly red before, blushes like a June virgin.

Kurt, Sebastian, and Barry chat and joke, trying to keep sexual tension from turning into awkward tension. But in between the comparing and the complimenting, Sebastian begins to notice how quiet Carson is. He looks down at the man he’s still buried in to see his eyes solemnly closed. “Carson? Buddy? Are you okay? Talk to us.”

Barry notices, too, and while Sebastian untangles his body from Carson’s legs and discards their condom, Barry runs to his side of the bed.

“Hey, hey, hey, Carson? Baby? Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Carson laughs, and, in relief, Barry joins him. “I’m just trying to process.”

“So … did you enjoy yourself?”

Carson starts to shake his head, but he laughs louder. “Yeah,” he admits, opening his eyes. By then, Sebastian had gone, retreating to the head of the bed where Kurt was climbing underneath the covers. “I did. I didn’t want to, not at first, not after watching you and Kurt, but … I did.”

“And what did you think, my love?” Sebastian asks Kurt, curling his boyfriend against his body.

“I think …” Kurt glances shyly at Barry, helping Carson beneath the blankets on the opposite side of the bed “… that that was pretty electric.”

“I think that’s an accurate word for it,” Barry admits, pitching his own condom and climbing behind his boyfriend. He tucks the blanket around Carson’s body and holds him tight. “What do you think, baby?”

Carson looks over his shoulder at Barry, then across the bed at the two men looking at him with quizzical looks – similar faces, but so damn different. There’s only one Kurt and Sebastian, only one Carson and Barry, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. Carson smiles. “Absolutely.”


	5. The Thunder to My Lightning

“So, what do you think, love? Does that bear repeating?” Sebastian asks as he kisses the top of Kurt’s head. He can’t _stop_ kissing Kurt since their little orgy a few hours ago. After a power nap and a quick shower, Barry and Carson, still responsible adults in the middle of an actual work day, bid Kurt and Sebastian a fond farewell while the couple stayed behind to make the best possible use of their hotel room. They took a long, hot shower themselves - Sebastian lathering up a washcloth and cleaning his boyfriend down, subconsciously focusing on everywhere Barry had touched him and kissed him. Sebastian had a soft spot for Barry Allen, more now than before, but that didn’t mean he wanted any of the man’s DNA left behind on Kurt’s skin.

After their shower, they ordered up an obscene amount of room service and got back into bed. And why not? They had nowhere they had to be, no one to answer to today. Sebastian is his own boss, and as for Kurt, all he had to do was tell his boss Isabelle the truth, that he was having a spur-of-the-moment orgy with two guys that looked exactly like him and Sebastian, emphasizing the fact that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She immediately gave him the rest of the day off, but made him promise that she would be the first to hear the deets afterwards (meaning even before Chandler!!), including pictures if he could swing them … plus a sample of whatever it was he was dropping, if applicable.

Kurt and Sebastian segued seamlessly from orgy into romantic afternoon, basking in the glow of their phenomenal first ever foursome. It was a perfect set-up for what Sebastian had in store. He’d gone into this deciding to play it by ear, but the longer they linger in post-orgasmic bliss, the more he’s sure it’s time.

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, tracing swirls over Sebastian’s pecs with his fingertips while Sebastian strokes trails up his spine. “Maybe one more time. I didn’t get a chance with Carson, and I would have _loved_ to have seen you with Barry. But that might be a little too weird. Surreal.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian chuckles into Kurt’s hair. “Maybe a tiny bit. We might tear a hole in the space time continuum or something.”

“It was fun and all, but it was hard to concentrate – being with someone new, focusing on him and his needs, finding out what makes him tick, all while making sure Carson was comfortable and enjoying himself, and then wanting to watch you, how hot you looked. Sensory wise, it was a little much.”

“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I guess you were putting a lot more thought into it than I was. I was just going with the flow.”

“Too each his own.” Kurt shrugs. “Besides, I love you. I love making love to _you_.”

Sebastian grins. That’s what he wanted to hear. “Do you?”

“Mm-hmm. No one knows me the way you do. Part of the fun in having sex for me is finding someone I trust and being vulnerable with them. It’s hard to be that way with two people I don’t know, and it’s a little confusing when one of those people looks so much like _you_ , who I _do_ know. I know that there’s a lot of people who manage these types of relationships and enjoy it, and kudos to them. I just don’t think I’m one of those people.”

“Makes sense,” Sebastian says. “I’ve always been down for a multi-partner fuck fest, and I’m glad you were willing to take the plunge with me, but I have to admit, I cherish the times that you and I spend together. They’re special to me. Important.”

Kurt smiles. That’s what _he_ wanted to hear. “I’m glad that I’m important.”

“You always have been, babe. Still, that was a big step. Probably one of the biggest steps we’ve taken in our relationship so far.”

Kurt hums, snuggling against Sebastian’s chest with eyes clothes, ready for another nap. “Probably.”

“And we came out of it unscathed.”

“Relatively,” Kurt says. “I mean, did you _see_ the scratches I left on Barry’s chest?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian laughs. “But they faded pretty quick, so maybe you’re losing your touch.”

“Ah! Bite your tongue!” Kurt snickers, but Sebastian goes quiet, lost in thought with his fingertips playing down the steps of Kurt’s spine, his other hand sneaking beneath the pillow to fish out something he’d left there before their shower … just in case.

“You feel like taking another one?”

“Hmm? Another what?”

“Another big step.”

Sebastian feels Kurt shift upward a hair to hear him better. “What do you mean?”

“I mean …” Kurt feels Sebastian swallow, his head against the hollow of his neck “… Kurt Hummel, would you do me the tremendous honor of being my husband?”

Kurt’s brow pinches. Was he speaking hypothetically or …? Kurt opens his eyes, about to look up except right in front of him, sitting on Sebastian’s chest in an open blue box, is the most stunning platinum and diamond ring he’s ever seen in his life – and seeing as he works for _Vogue_ , that’s saying something.

“Oh my God,” Kurt gasps, picking the box up in disbelief and sitting upright with it. “Are you … are you _serious_?”

“A-ha.” Sebastian sits up with him. He takes the ring from the box and holds out his hand. “I’ve had this ring for a while now. I’ve just been trying to find the best time to give it to you.”

“A-and you felt that right after our first orgy was the best time?” Kurt asks, marveling when Sebastian slips the ring onto his finger, the smooth metal band fitting him perfectly. Kurt doesn’t even wear rings. How the hell did Sebastian know his size?

Because Sebastian loves him, so Sebastian found a way. He probably measured Kurt’s finger one night when Kurt was so knocked out on Ambien, he couldn’t think straight.

And as ridiculous as that sounds, it melts Kurt’s heart.

“Absolutely. It’s a milestone, babe.” Sebastian curls Kurt’s hand over the ring and holds it. “I knew if we could get through that with no hard feelings, we could get through anything.”

Sebastian kisses Kurt’s hand, and Kurt has a sudden flashback of the things they’ve been through up to this point – the jabs and the insults, the angry sex, the _passionate_ sex, the moments of quiet, Sebastian sitting beside Kurt in the hospital when Kurt’s dad had his second heart attack, and then sitting beside Kurt again in Kurt’s own hospital bed after he’d rushed into an alley to save a man from being beaten to death by homophobes and got the shit knocked out of him, graduations and dinners with family and holidays and all the celebrations, big and small, that go into sharing a life together. In retrospect, the bad blood between them only lasted about a year total, and every day since has been incredible.

Kurt looks at his hand wrapped in Sebastian’s grasp, the ring at home on his finger as if Sebastian always knew that Kurt would say yes, so he’s not even waiting for an answer.

Snarky, conceited, cocky, know-it-all Sebastian.

The completely unexpected and wonderful love of Kurt’s life.

Kurt leans forward and rests his forehead against Sebastian’s forehead. “D-did you ever have any doubts?”

Sebastian shakes his head, and kisses Kurt gently on the lips, smiling against Kurt’s watery smile. “Never for a minute.”

***

Carson and Barry used work as an excuse to leave the hotel room, but they never actually went back. It was a difficult thing for them to put into words, especially after everything that had just happened between the four of them, but both men had begun to feel like they were overstaying their welcome, that there was something else planned for those two in that room that Carson and Barry should not be a part of. They went to Barry’s room across town to defrag and reflect. They were going to talk, _really_ talk, sit down and hash out everything they were feeling, what they wanted to do, how they were going to proceed.

But five steps into the room, they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off and heading straight for bed.

In their defense, at least they were talking.

“So, did you like him better than me?” Carson asks, sliding up and down slowly on Barry’s cock in his lap. He runs his hand down Barry’s chest where the tracks of Kurt’s nails had been.

That was only a few hours ago, but there isn’t a single mark left, and thank God. Carson didn’t know how long he could look at them.

“What a time to ask that question, Car.” Barry laughs, pulling Carson down so he can feel the full extent of his arousal, every inch of it buried deep in Carson’s body. “But no,” Barry answers quickly, honestly, knowing Carson doesn’t let a question lie once it’s been asked. That’s why he’s a shoo-in for the Pulitzer; Barry just knows it. “There’s no contest. He doesn’t even compare to you.”

“I don’t know,” Carson teases. “It looked like he had you pretty convinced.”

“He wasn’t you, Carson. He doesn’t _feel_ like you. He doesn’t _taste_ like you. I was so nervous with him. I didn’t know how to touch him, how to kiss him, what to say to him.” Barry stops Carson in his lap, smirking deviously. “And with him, I can’t do this …”

Barry puts his hand flat over Carson’s bare chest. The second they connect, forks of blue electricity fly from Barry’s fingertips. They dance over Carson’s skin, outlining jagged, branching marks that faded a long time ago. Barry pulls and the electricity pulls back, trying to re-seat Barry’s hand on Carson’s flesh. Carson’s head falls back. Barry’s electricity calls to the electricity inside Carson’s body, igniting every cell. It fills Carson with a comforting and erotic heat.

He feels an intense light burning behind his eyes. It turns him into a beacon of power, one that Carson is specially equipped to withstand.

Growing up, Carson Phillips was an imaginative boy who wanted to fly – far away from his small-minded town, far away from his manipulative mother, far away from the tragedy that was his young adult life. He was planning to attend Northwestern, become a reporter and, eventually, the youngest editor of The New Yorker, among other things. He longed to break free, defy expectations, and make something extraordinary of his life. Instead, on the last day of high school, he was hit by the world’s most random bolt of lightning and, by all clinical definitions of the word, died. It took members of his community over three days to find his body. But in a strange turn of events, he came back to life a day later in the morgue while being prepped for an autopsy, and no one could explain why, including the coroner who suffered a heart attack when Carson opened his eyes and sat straight up on his table. Carson’s experience with death set him on the path to not only becoming the journalist he’d always wanted to be, but to search out the supernatural.

The _impossible_.

Carson was open to any lead pointing to the unknown, but he focused mainly on searching out survivors of lightning strikes, trying to find an answer to why what happened to him happened. But all of the victims he spoke to were of the average, run-of-the-mill, struck by lightning survivors, each with similar experiences of being caught unaware either before or in the middle of a storm, most of whom received the same warning signs - static electricity causing their hair to stand on end, or just a general feeling of dread.

Carson had experienced none of those. He had been happy, content when the bolt of lightning hit him, having being brought down by circumstances earlier but finally finding peace with his direction in life. And he’d had no warning. There was no storm coming, no clouds that he remembered, no feeling of static electricity. His mother had said that she thought maybe Carson himself had pulled that bolt of lightning out of the sky.

Whatever happened to Carson, it lit a fire in his belly that sent him traveling all over the globe.

And that’s how, over a half-decade later, he found Barry.

Barry, who’d been struck by lightning himself after a particle accelerator malfunction.

Barry, whose accident not only put him in a coma for nine months, but also infused him with interesting abilities that defied all logic.

Barry Allen, also known as, _The Flash_.

When the two of them met, the sparks between them weren’t just metaphorical.

A good friend once told Barry that he felt the lightning that struck him wasn’t random; that maybe that lightning chose Barry for a reason.

If that’s the case, both Carson and Barry pulled lightning from the sky.

The two of them meeting had to be more than a coincidence.

“Yeah.” Carson gasps, watching the electricity arc between his chest and Barry’s hand. “That’s pretty damn awesome.”

“You know,” Barry says, leaning in close to kiss Carson’s neck, sending sparks sizzling over that sensitive skin, “most people joke about finding someone whose demons play nicely with theirs. For us, that’s more than just a saying. And since I can only do this with you, you know what that means.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means …” Barry curls his hand into a fist, lets the current break and dissolve “… we belong together. No matter what, Carson. If I’m in the middle of a case and we don’t see one another for days, or you get called out of bed late at night to cover a story, we’re two parts of the same whole, and that will never change.”

Carson nods. He winds his arms around Barry’s shoulders and hugs him tight. “I think you might be right.”

Barry brushes back hair that had steadily been creeping into Carson’s face so he can see the latent charge in his blue eyes. “I love you, Carson.”

Carson smiles. He closes in for a kiss, a single thread of electricity jumping from his lips to Barry’s. “I love you, too.”


End file.
